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Wei Wuxian wasn’t expecting much from dorm life, but he definitely wasn’t expecting Lan Wangji.
His room was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that made Wei Wuxian’s ears ring after a long day of classes. His new roommate — tall, pale, handsome in a way that felt unfair, and quiet in a way that felt personal — barely looked at him when he walked in with his bags slung over his shoulder and his hoodie half zipped.
“Hey,” Wei Wuxian had tried, grinning. “I guess we’re stuck with each other.”
Lan Wangji looked up from his laptop and nodded. Once.
That was day one.
By day five, Wei Wuxian had gotten six full words out of him — all of them necessary, none of them volunteered. It wasn’t that Lan Wangji was rude. No, he was perfectly polite in that vaguely terrifying, ultra-composed way. He just… didn’t seem to like people. Or talking. Or Wei Wuxian, maybe.
Still, Wei Wuxian was nothing if not persistent. He talked anyway — about classes, annoying professors, the cafeteria's betrayal of tofu, how socks kept disappearing in the laundry. Lan Wangji responded with occasional “mn”s and the kind of silence that Wei Wuxian was slowly learning to interpret: one “mn” meant I’m listening, two meant please shut up, and three meant I’m seriously considering murder.
And somewhere between all the talking and the monosyllabic responses, Wei Wuxian made the most inconvenient discovery of his college life.
He had a crush.
A huge, stupid, doomed crush on his emotionally unavailable, ghost-silent, probably-does-yoga-at-dawn roommate.
~~~~
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji was running on fumes.
His last sealed bag of blood was gone. His brother was overseas with their uncle, which meant no discreet deliveries, no quick refills. And the worst part? He couldn’t risk going into the woods to feed. Not this close to midterms. Not when he barely had the energy to keep his head clear around him.
Wei Wuxian smelled like sunlight, honey and temptation. And Lan Wangji was starting to slip.
~~~~
Wei Wuxian wasn’t even that hurt. Just a scrape on his palm from trying to climb a gate he definitely wasn’t supposed to climb. (To be fair, he did get the frisbee back, and no one died, so technically it was a win.)
He winced a little as he opened the dorm room door, flicking on the light with his elbow. His hand throbbed, still tacky with drying blood where the wound stretched across his skin. Probably needed a Band-Aid. Or, okay, maybe several.
“Lan Zhan,” he called absently, dropping his bag. “You won’t believe what—”
He stopped.
Lan Wangji was on his bed, back propped against the headboard, book in hand. Perfectly still. Too still.
Wei Wuxian blinked. He was used to that stillness by now — Lan Wangji moved like a statue on a good day — but something about this felt wrong. Tense. Coiled.
Then he noticed the way Lan Wangji's nostrils flared, slow and deliberate, as if he was scenting the air. His head turned sharply, eyes locking on Wei Wuxian with a precision that knocked the breath clean out of his chest.
Wei Wuxian froze.
Those eyes — they were always intense, sure, but now they looked almost... glowing. Gold, faint but real, like sunlight caught in amber and burning just beneath the surface. His gaze didn’t waver. Didn’t blink.
Every hair on Wei Wuxian’s body stood on end.
Something primal and ancient stirred in the base of his spine — the kind of fear that didn’t come from reason but instinct. He felt like a rabbit in a field with a hawk’s shadow overhead. Like something was watching him and hadn’t decided whether to pounce or pass.
Still, he forced a laugh, holding up his scratched hand. “Don’t worry, I didn’t get in a fight. The fence won. Very dramatic. Might need stitches. Might turn into a zombie by morning.”
No response.
Wei Wuxian took a cautious step closer. “Lan Zhan?”
And then, faster than thought, Lan Wangji stood. One smooth motion. Then the book was down, the door yanked open, and he was gone.
The door clicked shut behind him like a full stop.
Wei Wuxian stood alone in the middle of the room, bleeding, confused, and suddenly, deeply aware of how fast his heart was beating.
~~~~
The day started like any other: with Wei Wuxian being late, running on two hours of sleep, and tripping over his own shoelaces. Classic. He barely remembered how he scraped his hand again — some combination of a badly-timed joke, gravity, and a wild arm gesture involving bubble tea.
He hissed when he peeled the bandage back. The wound had reopened. Great.
By the time he stumbled into his dorm room, the blood had started to well again, slick and red and stubborn. He wasn’t too worried — just annoyed, mostly. He kicked the door shut with his heel.
“Lan Zhan, you in?” he called out.
He barely had time to blink.
One second he was fumbling with his bag, and the next — Lan Wangji was there. Right in front of him. Fast and silent and impossibly close. Wei Wuxian froze, heart skipping several very confused beats.
“Whoa,” he managed, breath hitching.
Lan Wangji’s hand slid around his waist, pulling him flush against a firm chest. He felt fingers brush against his hip, not holding him hard, but with quiet certainty. His breath was cool against Wei Wuxian’s throat, the barest whisper. Then—
His nose pressed lightly to the skin there, and he inhaled. Deeply.
“Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian’s voice cracked slightly. “Did you... miss me or something?”
No answer.
And then—
Lan Wangji’s tongue touched his neck.
Wei Wuxian barely had time to register what was happening. One moment, Lan Wangji’s breath was ghosting against his throat — cool, careful — and the next, his tongue was there, cold and slow, laving over the pulse point like it was something sacred. Then there was a bright flash of pain that made Wei Wuxian gasp.
Then came the rush.
It was like warm honey poured straight into his veins, thick and golden, rushing through him with a sweetness that made his breath stutter. His spine arched, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation bloomed — too intense, too good. Every pull of Lan Wangji’s mouth sent heat coiling low in his belly, spreading like liquid fire.
He could feel it — everything. The reverent way Lan Wangji held him, fingers digging into his waist like he was fighting for control. The way his tongue moved — slow, deliberate, devotional — tasting him between every draw of blood, like he was savoring every drop. It was intimate. Too intimate.
Wei Wuxian's fingers trembled as they tangled in Lan Wangji’s hair, tugging without meaning to, needing something to hold onto. His skin was electric, hypersensitive, each breath making his chest rise and fall like he was drowning in want. A whimper escaped him — low, involuntary, needy.
His body felt hot. Aching. Like the bite had unlocked something feral and molten inside him. His thighs shifted, brushing against Lan Wangji’s, and he realized — distantly, breathlessly — that he was hard.
And Lan Wangji… knew.
The tremor in his hands, the way his mouth faltered just slightly before dragging in another pull — slower this time, more possessive, like he wanted to wring every ounce of sensation from them both.
Wei Wuxian hadn’t meant to moan.
It slipped out — soft, breathless — before he could stop it, his body arching helplessly as Lan Wangji's mouth pulled another deep draw from his neck. His fingers clutched at Lan Zhan’s shoulders, trembling, as his knees buckled slightly from the overwhelming sensation flooding his system.
Too much. Too good.
And then — everything stopped.
Lan Wangji froze.
It was like a glass shattered between them. His lips went still against Wei Wuxian’s skin, and the iron grip on his waist loosened in an instant. Wei Wuxian blinked, dazed, trying to make sense of the sudden cold air against his throat — but before he could say anything, Lan Wangji jerked away.
“—ah!”
Wei Wuxian stumbled, the world tilting as his legs gave out. He collapsed onto the floor, dizzy and breathless, one hand catching himself, the other still clutching where he’d been bitten.
Lan Wangji was staring at him.
Horrified.
There was blood on his lips. His chest was rising and falling in sharp, panicked bursts. He looked like he’d woken up from a nightmare and realized he’d become the monster in it.
“Wei Ying,” he whispered, voice ragged, “I— I didn’t mean— I’m sorry— I’m so sorry—”
Wei Wuxian tried to sit up, but the dizziness pulled at him again. Cold hands were suddenly there, supporting him gently, guiding him back onto the bed.
“I’m fine,” he mumbled, but Lan Wangji wasn’t listening. His hands were shaking as he fetched a water bottle from the desk, uncapped it, and pressed it into Wei Wuxian’s palm.
“Drink,” he ordered, voice tight with guilt.
Wei Wuxian blinked up at him. Lan Zhan was kneeling beside the bed, his expression shattered, like he couldn’t believe what he’d done. Like Wei Wuxian was fragile glass he’d just cracked.
“I said I’m fine—”
“You’re not,” Lan Wangji snapped, before catching himself. His jaw clenched. He lowered his gaze. “You lost blood. You need to rest.”
He stayed with him — silent, careful — making sure Wei Wuxian drank every last drop of water, that he laid down, that the blanket was pulled up to his chin even though the room wasn’t cold. He bandaged his wound. He didn’t touch him again, not unless it was absolutely necessary. And when Wei Wuxian finally drifted into an uneasy sleep, Lan Wangji stayed seated on the floor beside the bed, stiff with guilt and stillness.
And the next morning… he was gone.
The days after were strange. Quiet.
Lan Wangji avoided him like it physically hurt to look. If their eyes met across the dorm room, Lan Zhan would turn away sharply, pretending to be buried in his laptop or textbooks. He didn’t speak unless he had to — and even then, it was short, clipped, distant.
Wei Wuxian didn’t push.
Not because he didn’t want to — gods, he burned to talk about it, to joke, to tease, to ask what the hell that had been. What the fuck!? Was his roommate a vampire? . But midterms had come crashing in, and their lives became a whirlwind of lectures, caffeine, and sleepless nights. Timing, for once, was not on his side.
So they both pretended.
Pretended nothing happened.
Pretended he hadn’t moaned. Pretended Lan Wangji hadn’t looked at him like he’d betrayed himself. Pretended there wasn’t a bite mark just beneath Wei Wuxian’s collar, still faintly sore, still tingling every time he thought about it.
They didn’t talk
~~~~
It was over.
Midterms were done. The silence wasn’t.
The room felt colder now, like something had left with the tension — or maybe it was still there, coiled between their beds and the memories neither of them dared mention.
Wei Wuxian sat on his mattress, the curtains half-drawn. Outside, the campus was humming again. Life, laughter, relief. Inside, Wei Wuxian’s thoughts buzzed like a swarm of angry bees.
Lan Wangji was at his desk, back straight, face blank, flipping through a book like he hadn’t bitten him — bitten him — and then disappeared like a ghost.
Wei Wuxian snapped.
"Hey will you keep ignoring me? Or do I need to bleed again to get a hello?"
Lan Wangji fliched
Wei Wuxian laughed—low, bitter. “Ten days. You drink my blood, vanish into your own world, and then act like I don’t exist. Am I supposed to just forget it happened?”
“I did not mean to—”
“Oh, shut up, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian snapped. “Don’t you dare pull that noble guilt card on me right now.”
Lan Wangji blinked. His fingers curled slowly into a fist.
Wei Wuxian took a step forward, voice shaking. “Why are you treating me like it was all my fault? For fucks sake I didn't know. I didn't know you are a vampire and I'm not supposed to come here bleeding. "
Wei wuxian sat down defeated." I know you are disgusted that you drank my blood but can we please put this behind us? At least treat me like I'm visible. "
"You think I'm ignoring you because of that?"
"I don't know Lan Zhan, you drink someone's blood, throw them on the floor, tuck them in like a corpse and ghost them for 10 days—"
"I lost control. I have never—"
"So you said. Multiple times. In twenty different languages."
"I hurt you."
" You didn’t,” he said softly. “Not really.”
Lan Wangji’s jaw clenched.
“You fell.”
“You didn’t drop me.”
“I—”
“And I moaned.” Wei Wuxian let that hang in the air. “Like a pervert. In your arms. While you had your fangs in me. And you ran like you were the one being hunted.”
Lan Wangji looked stricken.
“I wasn’t disgusted,” he said, almost a whisper.
Wei Wuxian tilted his head.
“I was terrified.”
And that? That cracked something in Wei Wuxian wide open.
“…Of me?”
“Of how much more I wanted... what I wanted to do next.”
The silence that followed was sharp and electric.
Wei Wuxian sat still, watching him, heart hammering in his chest.
And then — softly, with the same reckless bravery that had always gotten him into trouble — he said:
“Well. Maybe you should show me.”
Lan wangji blinked at him.
"I want it again. I want you, and I don’t care if you have fangs or a halo or three extra hearts. Just— stop pushing me away,”he continued.
"I like you. Okay? I liked you before the biting. Before you went full predator on me. I liked you when you were ignoring me and giving me your damn ‘mn’ responses and rolling your eyes when I sang in the shower. I liked you when you brought me soup when I had a cold and pretended it was leftover from your own dinner.”
Silence.
Wei Wuxian stared at him, breath heavy, heart thudding.
"I have wanted you from the moment you smiled at me from across the room, " Lan Wangji stood and reached for him.
The end
Or the beginning.. Don't know